


Running Late

by Name1



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, domestic feels, faulty internal clock, home can be wherever you want it to be, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27089080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Name1/pseuds/Name1
Summary: Din and Cara wake up the morning after one of his frequent visits, lose track of time, and her self-described 'wonderful' boss ends up being slightly worried when she doesn't show up to work.
Relationships: Cara Dune/The Mandalorian, Din Djarin & Cara Dune, Din Djarin & Cara Dune & Greef Karga, Din Djarin/Cara Dune
Comments: 19
Kudos: 70





	Running Late

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this last one-shot before Season 2.

It had been hours since they’d fallen asleep, sweaty but satisfied—too exhausted to even bother finding clothes and just pulled a blanket over themselves instead. His arrival at her door in the middle of the night had been quite the surprise and they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, just like every time he made an unannounced visit over the past year. He’d usually spend a few days in town on business, but he always visited Cara first and always came back at the end of the day when his business had concluded. Why would he spend the night in town when he could spend the nights with her--a home cooked meal, a warm bed, and most importantly, Cara herself. They never seemed to tire of catching up....

She had woken up slowly to his hands on her lower back and she threw a leg over his waist to straddle him as soon as her body caught up with her brain and woke up. She magnanimously let him be on top last night, but while it was nice to not have to do all the work sometimes--turnabout was fair play. The blackout curtain in the window of her bedroom assured complete darkness despite the hour, and they took advantage of her investment--he never wore the helmet in this room. His hands traveled down her chest to settle on her hips to move her slightly into place once he realized this was really morning and not another dream.

She rides him achingly slowly this time--matching the sleepy morning atmosphere. She braces her hands against the bottom of his ribcage and moves with him in a way that makes both their eyes roll back and inspires his hands to move from her hips to her thighs to get a better grip. When she feels him getting close, she quickens her pace; no longer interested in stretching this out when it’s been months since she’s felt this good. He never left her wanting and he didn’t disappoint this time either. She knew he loved watching her perfect rhythm fall apart into a writhing mess so she didn't even bother trying to hold back. Even once the aftershocks wore off, she didn’t give up her place; instead, rolling her hips against his to catch the last few tremors of pleasure shared between them.

When she can hear him breathe again without gasping, she kisses him and lets him hold her without a fuss—she might have even initiated the warm embrace this time. She wonders where the instinct to kiss him and wrap herself around him came from. Do all people kiss and cuddle this much after lovemaking— _sex_ , she corrects herself stubbornly in her mind. Is the thought of separating after sharing something so amazing this physically painful for everyone or just them? She certainly doesn't remember it ever being like this before......though everything was different since she'd met Din and his adorable kid. 

It was still dark, but he knew her smile against his chest as if he was seeing it in the midday sun. Afterall, he was well-versed in the many smiles of Cara Dune by now. There was the infectious victory smile after a fight, the soft and happy smile she wore when the kid brought her a shiny rock, the shit-eating and the eat-shit varieties that were both all perfect teeth, and the dangerous smirk that meant some poor bastard had no idea what he’d gotten himself into. Then there was the one on her face _now_ ; the smile she saved only for him that was curled against his collarbone--the smile that was his and his alone and that even in the dark, said everything she couldn't. This was the warm affectionate smile she couldn’t suppress no matter how she bit down on her poor lip.

Over the past year they had gotten better and better and talking openly, but so much of their lives together were still filled with silent declarations and actions speaking louder than words. Just because they didn't say the word ' _love_ ,' it didn't mean they couldn’t hear it just fine. He’d learned over the last year and a half that love didn't have to be spoken to be heard and not everything has to be loud or forceful to break down your walls so completely that you're rebuilt anew in the presence of someone who knows you better than you know yourself.

If they could just wait another fifteen minutes like this, she was sure they could go again but she thought she should check the clock to make sure she wasn’t late for work. She sat up to reach toward the bedside clock but he intercepted her so he could steal another kiss. His hand tangled in her hair and she kissed him back fiercely with more fervor than he'd been expecting. He pulled her back down with him and she went more than willingly--the clock completely forgotten. He ran his hands down her sides as she laid atop him in a rare moment of quiet

That was a lie. Nowadays, their time together was _filled_ with moments of quiet--simple contentment and easy silence that had replaced the sound of blasterfire and violence. Their time spent together was still rare enough to drop everything for it, but not as rare as it used to be. He never came to her for them to fall into bed, onto the couch, or even the floor that one time, but seeing each other was always irresistible and everything else simply fell into place. They’d finally given in to their mutual attraction at long last and it was hard to be in the same space after months apart without ripping each other's clothes off. It only took the once; one glorious brave night, to bravely cross that line they'd been toeing forever, and once they had, there was no going back to pretending they weren't anything less than everything to each other, despite the vast distance that sometimes separated them for weeks or months at a time.

That was a funny thing too....if anyone looked too closely.

Work has become the thing he finds time for now, instead of the other way around. It used to be simple, just occasional visits in between jobs; a couple of days, sometimes more, but that was it. A few days turned into _several_ days, turned into closer to a week, turned into shameless weeks: catching up with each other, sharing the highlights of their time apart and then separating again to work separately once more. His center had shifted, and he barely noticed. Cara and the kid come before anything else now. Now it's _work_ itself that feels like the pastime, the interruption to his life, and the thing he has to make time for. 

Work isn't his life any longer, which had really rocked him, but he doesn't feel without a purpose--quite the opposite. His life is _here_ and work is just a thing that he has to find time for--an excuse to have to leave and go make money. His life isn't out there with visits here. His life is _here_ interspersed or interrupted with the occasional trip to work. Life used to be all the things in between work, but now work is the thing that happens between life. He wonders if Cara notices how rare their reunions are becoming--not because he returns less, but because he's leaving less, and by definition, returns less as well. Occasionally a traitorous voice in his head whispers a question he can’t think about in the light of day. _What if one day he just didn't leave?_

It used to be his visits were brief, short breaks from the monotony, but now things had reversed somehow. Now he was here more often than not, leaving on breaks to go work--the assortment of his things left around her place were a testament to that. The first days back together always found them all over each other, hunkered down in her apartment until they'd emerge for food and water and to announce to Greef he had come to visit, but the days that followed were the reason they looked forward to these visits.

**Scratch that.** That word doesn't even fit anymore. He doesn't _visit_ now, he returns home-- to a feeling of _home_ that had nothing to do with four walls and a roof but everything to do with two arms, the sound of quiet breathing, and the feeling of unconditional acceptance and that 'L' word they avoided like the plague.

These were the type of mornings that they looked forward to; the ones when they had nothing to do and nowhere to be before the sun came up. Just how long had he been lost in his musings, he wondered. He hoped it wasn't getting close to 8.

His hand stirs in her hair.

“Mmm. I think I drifted off for a second,” he tells her in a sleepy satisfied voice.

“Me too,” she says, equally soft. It seemed they both could get used to these spoiled and decadent mornings. He could still feel the sweat cooling on his skin, so it couldn't have been more than a few minutes, half an hour at most since they’d collapsed with her half on top of him.

His senses took a minute to wake up, but it was the smell of her sheets and her warm bed that let him know exactly where he was. He could feel himself fighting sleep just to keep touching her. This was his favorite way to wake up. 

‘Kid still asleep?” she asks groggily, as she feels him stir.

“Yeah. Do you need to get up? Is it morning?”

She looks to where the window is but there's no clue thanks to the curtains so she makes her best guess. “It's got to be at least 4 or 5 in the morning already, but I still have three or four hours until I have to be up.” Without the sun she had to rely on her internal clock, but it was always so precise so she wasn't worried. 

“Do you want to go back to sleep?” he asks, content to lay here with her until she has to go to work at 8 if she's tired.

She doesn't seem in love with that idea. “Why? Don't you have another suggestions? I certainly do”

“A couple," he says, as he pretends seriously to think about it.

She shifts to climb on top of him again. “Don't mind me. I'm just getting comfortable to listen to your excellent ideas.” After a bit of gratuitous wiggling she proudly announces, “I found the best spot. Continue.”

It’s hard to tease her when she’s on top of him but he tries because he knows how she loves his smart mouth. “You are a temptress. The very definition of evil. You know that, right?”

“Oh I’m sorry,” she says without a single ounce of remorse, “do you want me to _move_?”

Why is she such a smartass, he thinks fondly. “I want you to _move,_ alright.”

She’s having a really hard time keeping the smile out of her voice. “Maybe I didn’t phrase that right. Did you want me to get off?”

He snorts, incapable of keeping up the serious act. “Repeatedly.” That ship had already sailed--for them both.

There must be something wrong with her, she thinks--she can't stop herself from kissing him again and again. “On an unrelated note, I've missed your smart mouth.”

“I’ve missed everything about your mouth,” he fires back, “especially your refined and delicate vocabulary.”

She felt he was contemplating another around, despite their exhaustion--the proof growing more insistent underneath her thigh, so she shifted quite ‘innocently’and he playfully rolled her onto her back. She laughed at the half-assed attempt and easily rolled him back. They almost fell off the bed and scooted together back into the middle and kicked the sheets down to their feet so they didn’t get tangled.

“You sure?” he asks, more than willing to take one for the team and do the hard work this time, but he'd never complain about the position they found themselves in.

"So sure," she practically purred.

“Your legs aren't sore?”

In truth they were still burning from earlier, but every inch of her was burning in a very different way and that took precedence. 

“Why don't you stop asking stupid questions and just lay there and enjoy it.” He couldn't help but laugh since that was obviously a joke. Neither one of them had ever had enough self-control to just ‘lay there and enjoy it’, but that made it all the more ironic. They tried, but they were just too into each other. By the end who knew who'd end up on top.

“You will _never_ have to tell me that twice,” he says, cheekily. She can't see him, but _feels_ him lie back and fold his fingers together to pillow under his head as he gets comfortable. His elbows are probably stretched apart as he reclines there like a king. _That little shit._

He wiggles a bit more, _just because he can_ , before proclaiming he’s finally comfortable. “I’m ready. Have your wicked way with me.”

“Ohhhhh,” she moans appreciately, as she takes in the new adjective and how it sounds from his lips. “Wicked….. I like that.” She leans forward to kiss him before speaking directly against his parted lips. “Say it again.”

“Inspire me and I just might.” His word foreplay was really on point today--she was impressed--but she was shamelessly wet already and that asshole probably knew it.

She grins against his mouth. “What if I ask real sweet?”

His lips part of their own volition, in anticipation of what she’s going to do next as she leans forward to lift up on her hands and knees. He breathes heavily out through his nose, refusing to pant through his open mouth. “You know how weak I am when you beg.”

*knock knock knock*

They freeze momentarily at the sound of a loud knock at the door. When there’s no second round of knocking and no voice they figure it was just a fluke.They’re still moving slow and easy, still emerging from that dreamlike place where everything was warm and sensitive and pleasurable as they start lose themselves in each other.

“They’ll go away,” he assures her, and kisses her hard enough they both forget about the sound entirely. Her muscles are sore but as she starts moving along with his encouraging hands she starts to loosen up. Their reunion sex was getting softer and softer--more making love than anything. They were both turning into soft idiots, she admits, without the usual denial she prides herself on.

*knock knock*

*knock knock knock*

Her mouth leaves his with great effort at the sound of that damn knock again. She rises up to lean across him to reach for the night stand. The angle gives him a face full of breasts and he can’t help but kiss and nip at them when they’re in his face so perfectly like this--it would be a crime not to. She's almost distracted enough by his clever mouth until her eyes focus the clock. “Shit. I'm late,” she says, as she scrambles off of him.

"It still feels early," he says, his voice still full of sleep and pleasure and something warm that's bigger than either of those other things.

“It's already nine!" she exclaims, not in a panic, but quite close. "I was supposed to meet Greef at 8.” _So much for that internal clock. damn._

He pulls her back down and buries his face into her neck, and pulls her earlobe between his teeth.

“Maybe he'll go away,” he suggests. _He’s not helping at all._

She shakes her head but can’t help but bite back a moan at his dirty trick. “You know he has a key. He'll walk in to make sure I’m okay.”

Din’s still not convinced that’s worth stopping what they were in the middle of. “I'll throw a blanket over you.”

She snorts at how single-minded he sounds. "I'm not worried about Greef seeing my bare ass as much as I’m worried about him seeing your bare face,” she explains.

Din has answer for that as well. "Since I'm the only one here who's seen both, I can tell you my face is nowhere near as exciting, I promise you.”

She snorts at him. “Flatterer.”

“Just stating the facts,” he says, as she stands and starts feeling around the floor with her feet in the dark for something resembling clothes. He smacks her ass playfully as he feels her bare hip brush his arm in the dark. She swats him away with a real genuine laugh at his increasing playful flirting that's becoming so commonplace she looks forward to it now. “You are the _worst,"_ she scolds him lightly as he makes another pass at her backside _,_ "I'm trying to go to work like a responsible employee.”

They both laugh at that. She grabs the edge of the sheet that had been covering them and runs the corner of the sheet down her sweaty chest, before reaching the most pressing mess that has to be dealt with upon standing before she can get dressed.

She feels around with her foot until she finds what she thinks is her shirt and throws it on in the dark.

“Sure you can't come back?” he teases her. “I’ll make it worth your while.” The sound of his voice going from questioning and hesitant to sure and confident, with an edge of cockiness, was hotter than any other more physical foreplay to date. 

“You're so needy,” she teases, as she reaches out to find his hand and link their fingers together. This wasn't holding hands, only old fools did that.

He uses that hand to tug her closer, until she’s resting one knee back on the mattress.

“What I _need_ is _you,_ ” he says, surprisingly close to her face. He must have sat up slightly to reach her.

“You'll _have_ me after work,” she tries to convince him.

“Can’t you take the day off?” he asks pitifully, and he sounds so put out, she can’t help but laugh.

“If I ask for the day off, Greef will think I’m dying and send a whole hospital here.”

“One more kiss then?” he offers amicably as a trade off. She hopes he’s better at negotiating with The Guild than he is now. She can see right through him.

She almost blindly reaches down to where she thinks his face is until she remembers it’s a trap--a very tempting trap with a mustache he knows she has a hard time saying 'no' to. “I’m onto you, Mando.”

She must be really flustered if she walked right into that one, he thinks. “That's exactly what I want," he explains. "You…….. _onto_ ….me.” He uses the fact that she’s barely balanced on the edge of the bed to pull her off center and back onto him—her legs naturally settling on either side of his waist.

She settles atop him for a second just to savor the feeling of him under her again before she really has to leave. His antics are sweet and endearing despite how late she's running now. “I missed you, you idiot.” She runs her hands down the sides of his face and feels his hands rest lightly on the back of hers. It's not as fiery as it was hours ago, touching him like this, but it’s so warm and intimate it takes her breath away for another reason. She can feel his cheeks and his smile under her fingertips. He presses a kiss onto the delicate skin of her palm and presses his face into it. She doesn't know why she closed her eyes, but she couldn't help it. Once their blind lust was satisfied it was easy to remember why they were so good together. They genuinely liked each other and catching up was always worth the long trip back. Din could admit that his friendship with Cara had been more than anything he ever thought he'd find in a life life his, but _this_.....their relationship now--the affection and the openness--was even better. He knew her better than he knew himself at times and the quiet intimacy they shared was everything good he looked forward to at the end of a long day. It was something he couldn’t really remember living without—a gift that had snuck up on him, knocked him on his ass, and left him wanting more, no matter how much they shared. It had absolutely nothing to do with sex but everything else that was intimate between them. The sex definitely wasn't bad either...

“Yeah, yeah,” he jokes. “You know I missed you too, though I can't imagine why.” That blatant lie earned him another passionate kiss that was interrupted by her laugh, before she tried again. She loved it when he talked shit. Her chuckle turned into a moan when she tasted herself on his lips from earlier, and found it even stronger along the rough scratch of his mustache. _They both needed a shower but it would have to wait._

She does her best to sound unaffected. “Save your breath, Mandalorian. You can sweet talk me when I get back.” His beard is outright sinful as it rubs against her face and neck, making his way down her chest, talking shit the whole time.

“You must be in a good mood,” he says amusedly against a nipple he's suddenly quite fond of, and she can’t help but arch her back appreciatively into it. “Usually _‘running my mouth’_ is what you’d call it,” he teases her. “I can't imagine why you're so relaxed and agreeable…..good night last night?” She still amazed sometimes how he knows exactly what to do to rile her up. It’s unfair, but she’ll have to serve up payback later.

She's getting distracted. She has to go. She uses all her willpower to pull back and clamber off him to stand on the cold floor. “Maybe you should grab some water and a snack while I’m gone,” she suggests as helpful advice as she runs a hand affectionately up his thigh in the dark, only missing slightly. “I’m going to make you pay for those words later.”

“I’m looking forw—"

Another loud fist on the door interrupts them. Greef’s voice can really carry when he wants it to, apparently. “Cara! You better be dead in there!” he yells.

She yells right back. “Hold your banthas old man, I’m naked! Give me a goddamned second!” She throws on a pair of panties her foot fished out from under the bed and stomps out of the dark bedroom through the living room, and to the front door. She makes it just in time to hear him muttering to himself.

"You better not be hungover again, girl…… I swear to the stars….why do I put up with you....” he grumbles under his breath once he knows she can hear him, but it's all for show. Who knows why, but he actually likes her and puts up with her shit. 

She opened the door in a shirt and panties. If he's surprised at her state of undress, he does a good job covering it. 

“I know, I know, I’m late,” she admits. “Can I at least put my pants on, or do I have to go to work like this?” she asks grouchily as she gestures to her bare legs.

“You're in a delightful mood for someone who slept in an extra hour,” he quips. _Sleeping had definitely not been on the agenda last night, so it was no wonder she was a bit grouchy._

He looks elsewhere as she grabs her pants from the back of the couch. She's lucky it appears like they were placed there on purpose and not thrown in a rush to get naked as fast as possible the night before. 

“Are you hungover?” he asks. “You’re never late, and your shirt’s on inside out.” She gives him a glare, but it sinks in that he had actually been worried when she hadn’t shown, hadn’t called, and hadn’t answered the door. The more he tried to cover it up the more guilty she felt for making him knock so many times. He can't help but stare at the state of her hair she's trying to pull back in vain. It’s the messiest he's ever seen it—like she rolled around on the ground in a scuffle with a sand worm and barely made it out alive. She has three pins in her mouth she’s talking around as she hastily tries to braid it back. She runs her hands through it enough that she can pass as a human and even manages to get something resembling a braid on one side, though it’s uneven and crooked.

There’s something off that he can’t quite put his finger on, but he's about to let it go and walk back out to the porch to give her some privacy when something catches his eye. He sees two pairs of boots tossed carelessly on the floor. She must have gotten a second pair, he thinks. _Good, hers were looking a bit rough_.

He thinks nothing of it until he sees a familiar amban rifle leaning against the wall in what he affectionately and teasingly referred to as _his spot_. It all starts to make sense......

"Hold up…..” he says, and she turns back to look at him as she picks up her armor. She can see the wheels turning in his head and waits to see what he’s going to say while bracing herself for damage control

“Is Din……is Din here? I didn't know he was coming." He looks genuinely confused as he looks around the empty living room as if trying to find him. He heard her mutter something under her breath that sounded like “ _Not for several more hours, thanks to you_.”

_Damn_ , Cara curses to herself. They'd been sloppy last night and now her day with him all to herself was ruined. Busted. 

She rolls her eyes. _No, he just sent his rifle ahead through a delivery service_ , she thinks sarcastically, and almost voices it before she realizes it would just give Greef more ammunition. She settles on turning his question back on him. “What do _you_ think?”

Greef doesn’t answer immediately, just studies her curiously. Her neck is red and blotchy, there are red marks disappearing under the collar of her shirt which looks stretched out of shape, and she was being short with him. _She always got short when she was defensive_. Why would she possibly be defensive about Din being here though, he wondered. He visited all the time.

"Wait a minute,” he says, as the pieces fall together, “were you two.....?"

Fine Jig’s up. She decides to nip this in the bud. "Well, we WERE," she answered grouchily, "until you started banging on the door. I don't know who's more of a mood killer, you or the kid." She straightens her pants and throws on her belt, trying not to remember how Din had practically ripped a belt loop trying to get it off last night. His pants hadn't fared that much better. He'd been gone three weeks this time.

Greef’s brain which had been doing so well, seemed to have screeched to a halt at her admission. “Uhhhh....”

“Close your mouth,” she reminds him. “I'm late for work, or so you keep telling me. Lock the door behind me, won't you? There’s lots to get done today.” She was talking faster than necessary as she corralled him to the door. Greef couldn't believe it. Was she _embarrassed_? She grumbles some complaint and lets it trail off “Can’t a girl get lucky these days without a kriffing interrogation---"

Usually she’d make a joke about fucking, _the lewder the better_ , but she was keeping this oddly quiet. ‘ _Get lucky’_ wasn’t a euphemism he had heard her use before, and he thought he had heard them all from her, from the bawdy to the obscene. He definitely felt he was intruding on something more intimate than she was letting on. _Ohhh shit_ , he thinks as he puts it all together….this wasn’t them getting their rocks off, they were _visiting_ …… living together almost.

In truth He knew Din spent way more days planeside than he let on. He suspected for quite a while there must have been something more going on and now there was no denying it. Watching them pretending to ignore it was getting tedious. _Good for them_. That didn't mean he could just let it go without giving her shit about it though. That's what friends were for.

She teased him about his love life, or lack thereof, every chance she got so revenge was sweet. He raises his voice some just to rub it in. "I would ask him how his trip was, if he _got in_ okay......but I don’t want to make you blush anymore. Or is all that pink I’m seeing just love bites?"

Cara laughs a little at his obvious enjoyment of this scene, before slapping him on the back and laughing. "I’m not blushing any more than you are, boss. Good one though, I'm proud of you." She would have enjoyed it just as much if their roles had been reversed and she had to admit it was slightly amusing how they’d been caught red-handed by the most oblivious man in the quadrant.

It wasn't the fact they were practically caught in bed that made her face feel warm, it was that they'd hidden his visit entirely so they could have a day together, just them, before he'd had to go out and see Greef and pretend he came here for any other reason than just to see her. They were both running out of excuses it seemed. Din could only have so much believable ship maintenance and repairs or complicated jobs to plan before the jig was up and they had to admit it--he came here for _her_. At some point she’d also have to admit without feeling heat crawl up her cheeks that she looked forward to him returning. Somewhere along the line between friends and something more terrifying than friends, that's what it had become-- "returning” instead of “visiting".

Greef still looks too smug for her liking. “It’ll take a hell of a lot more than that to make me blush, but you might succeed with that one.” She jerks a thumb in the direction of her bedroom drawing the attention to Din. “He's a big softie.”

Din had obviously been listening, just as she suspected. “That's not what you were saying 10 minutes ago,” Din’s voice carries through the door, unmodulated, meaning his helmet was still off.

She can’t help but grin at his response. She turns back to Greef. “Can we wrap this up?” she asks him. “You’re really going to make me go to work right now? I'll be in a much better mood later, if you catch my drift.” She waggles her eyebrows for effect.

“Gross,” his face wrinkles up in a grimace. “I don’t want to hear about your sex life. Fine take until lunch. Is that long enough for you to shut up about it?”

“I don’t know,” she yells out. “Is that long enough, Din?”

She hears his voice again, almost amused as hers. “Has anyone ever said you have a big mouth?”

Stars, she kind of loved that man and how easily he followed her lead. “You love my mouth, we've covered that. And since Greef is hanging around he can hear all about it too,” she yells back toward her bedroom, while never taking her eyes off the man in front of her who looks like he wished he’d never showed up.

“On that helpful note, I'm leaving,” he says and books it to the door. “I’ll see you later. Do whatever it is you do when he visits. Just don’t tell me about it, ugh. I'm going to scrub my brain now.”

Cara’s already halfway back to the bedroom when she hears the front door swing open.

“Believe me, we will. Make sure you close the door." Her back is turned already, and she peels her shirt over her head as she hears the door close and lock.

Her eyes are focused downward down since the light from the living room has spilled into the bedroom upon her return, but it's not necessary. Din’s turned on a bedside lamp and is sitting with his helmet in place and wearing the spare pair of loose pants he keeps at her place. 

“What are you doing?” she asks, disappointed they couldn’t return to where they were before they were rudely interrupted.

She's standing there with no shirt on with her hands on her hips and he is struggling to remember why he threw on pants....oh right. Greef stopped by.....

“I was going to make you breakfast and surprise you later,” he answers, “I thought I could have a nice meal ready for when you get back during your lunch break.”

“I have off until lunch, didn’t you hear? I'm pretty sure he just gave me an extension to get some action. He’s generous like that, apparently.”

Din laughs at the thought. “I thought he was joking.”

“Nope, we have until lunch.” She reaches down to remove her last item of clothing but freezes when she sees the kid’s pram is open.

“The kid's already up,” Din says regretfully as he follows her eyes. “He heard Greef's voice, he won’t go back to sleep now.” She sees the floating egg shape is empty and sees the kid sitting on the ground beneath it, very much awake and alert and staring back at her excitedly with his big eyes. He’s missed her too.

She guesses round three will have to wait until tonight. She knows they should probably cool off anyway, since they certainly weren’t being careful in the uh ‘reproductive’ department. They’d been lucky for months, but they were pushing their luck lately. She can hardly imagine waiting until tonight to share the bed with him, but she knows it’ll just be even better after a day of luxurious nothing spent in each other’s company. Their first few hours spent together after weeks apart always felt like they were losing themselves in each other at first—blissful and desperate and triumphant—but it’s no longer the feeling of losing themselves any longer. Now their precious and deliberate moments together are like _finding_ themselves--finding their center in the warm security of each other after being apart. 

“I'll help you with breakfast then," she decides, putting her libido on the back burner. "We can eat it in bed. I’ll just throw on a shirt back on then.”

“Don’t be so hasty,” he says quickly and leaps up. “Maybe we can give the kid some extra snacks and we can grab a shower with the lights off,” he suggests.

That earns him a smirk in the light. “I still only have the one towel,” she says mischievously.

He nods conspiratorially. “I remember last time how we decided who got the towel…. ”

She presses her bare chest against his and raises her mouth to whisper just under the edge of his helmet. “That’s exactly why I don’t buy a second one.”

He’s on board with that too. “And why I don’t bring one with me. Do you really think I forget it every single time?”

She laughs at his admission. "You going to be a sore loser again?" she asks, with more mischief in her voice than is probably legal.

"I _let_ you win," is his quick reply. She loves how he almost sounded like he was pouting.

“Come on, let's feed that hungry kid so we can fight over the best spot in the shower,” she says, to get the show on the road.

“I already know what spot I want,” he says as he spins her around so her back is pressed to his front and they’re both faced at an angle away from the kid. He pushes up behind her and lets his hands run down the front of her body, torturously slow. She was still topless and the thin scrap of fabric on her bottom half didn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination, so it was impossible not to touch all that bare skin in the light where he could see her and not just use a combination of his imagination and memories. Usually they only got the dark.

“Show me after breakfast, you horny idiot,” she scolds him, while pushing into his hands—the very definition of mixed signals. “Your kid is staring at us and doesn’t need that kind of lesson.”

“He's fifty-one years old, remember?”

She laughs. “Somehow that just makes it worse....what if he hears us?"

“Maybe next time you should be quieter then,” he suggests.

“Not a chance.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> This will be the last thing I post before S2 airs. 
> 
> I'm going to catch up with commenting and replying and work on some AU stuff in the meantime.  
> See you guys in a few weeks :)


End file.
